


Spare Him, Oh Fate

by JahStorybook



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But he loves his bard, Geralt z Rivia | Geralt of Rivia Is Bad At Feelings, Somewhat Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Yennefer looks after her idiots, not entirely cannon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22584658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JahStorybook/pseuds/JahStorybook
Summary: Inspired by episode six, as many fics are sadly, but not the end scene where poor Jaskier's heart is broken. I felt Jaskier looked a little too sincerely upset at Yennefer's comment on his age to not write about it, but there's more stuff going on so don't think this is a fic about him growing old, it's not.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 21
Kudos: 501





	1. Chapter 1

"The crow's feet are new." Geralt winced, knowing damn well Jaskier didn't look old but that the joke would hit hard still. He seen the bard's face fall, turning from snarky to crushed. Yennefer, for just a moment, seemed confused. Obviously she meant it to get to him, but the hurt in his eyes was there more than ever.

"Yes, well, you're jokes are... getting old." He stormed off, leaving Geralt to glare at Yennefer.

"What? Honestly, he was hardly so touchy the last we spoke." Geralt turned back to his horse, shaking his head.

"He's human, Yenn. You hit a sore spot, that's all." And Jaskier was human. So human it hurt, really. Countless times he'd found pages upon pages of stricken out lyrics to songs Jaskier had abandoned because he claimed 'young love is for the young, and I've no place with them anymore.' At the time it had made Geralt smile, because he was much older than Jaskier, and the man was only thirty, so honestly it was a bit dramatic and worth laughing at, but then Jaskier didn't cheer up. After that, Geralt started to worry.

"How human of him, then, to worry about what he is." If she only knew. Geralt worried too, not about himself, but about his friend.

"Try not to antagonize him." 

"No promises."

* * *

"That song is about me," Yennefer said, while Jaskier played a few notes and sung the verse over and over, fine tuning it. He huffed, eyes glancing up through his beautiful lashes to glare at her. 

"This song is about many things, _you_ are only part of it." She edged closer to him, sitting on the log he rested on, just a foot to his side. Geralt watched them carefully, not sure if he should intervene or let it play out. They always fought, the two of them, but things were just so damn tense these days.

"Except, and don't take this to mean I'm not flattered, but isn't it a love song, of sorts? Don't tell me you're in love with me now, Jaskier." Her smile was cruel but her eyes gave away that she was trying to play nice after what happened before. 

"It's about Geralt, as well! Just because I've found something about you to immortalize in song doesn't mean I love you." Something in his chest tightened at that, because for all the songs Jaskier sang about him, none had been about love. Not that kind of love.

"Aw, so then you are in love with Geralt?" As if he'd been slapped, Jaskier recoiled from the witch, head snapping Geralt's way. He didn't say a word, just pulled his lute and journal up and left, face red, to sulk out of sight. "If he's not going to hurl insults back, what's the point?"

"Stop trying to instigate a fight with my bard." She sat up, eyes scanning him carefully. "What?"

"He is in love with you, you know that right?" Geralt felt the familiar tightness in his chest, the pain and tangle of things he didn't want to feel, to sort. "It's cruel, honestly, forcing him to stay at your side as a friend and a bard."

"I'm not forcing him to do anything," Geralt said, maybe more snapping than usual. Yennefer didn't take offense, at least. Or if she did, she didn't show it. 

"Sorry, I meant him. He's forcing himself to stay. The moment he saw me he wanted to flee, I know you felt it. He didn't though. Stuck by your side." Jaskier hadn't wanted to flee from Yennefer, he wanted to flee from what she meant. Always _bad news_. 

"He'll come around." She smiled, then, a real smile. 

"No, he won't. So I think I should." Geralt felt a whole new kind of tense. "He's better for you, Geralt. Better for you than I am."

"He's human," Geralt pointed out, desperate for this not to go the way it sounded like it was. 

"And that's why he's better for you. You're a lot more human than you give yourself credit." They weren't talking about this. He turned away from her, ignoring the way her eyes narrowed at him.

* * *

"Jaskier, I'd like to talk with you." The bard looked up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand to get them to focus. Too long staring at notes and words on a page. Or that's what he was telling himself, anyway. They were just strained, not at all bloodshot from his recent crying. He almost wished he'd left them blurry, when he seen who was standing over him.

"Yennefer. Come to insult me and scheme behind my back?" She knocked him over, stilling the trunk he sat on as it wobbled by sitting on it herself. With a huff he righted himself and sat on the ground, looking back at the journal in his hands. The song was perfect, maybe his best yet, and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to sing it without breaking his own heart. The truth of what he'd written was hard enough to put in words, how would he ever speak them? 

"I want to apologize." He glanced up at her, waiting. She wasn't even looking his way. 

"For which part," he asked, knowing that the only way to really talk to Yenn was to abandon all formality. It was a game of sorts, with her, but a very serious one.

"Well, it was hardly fair for me to expose your secret like that earlier, so let's start there." Ah, yes. His secret. Not so secret now, though. It was the most direct anyone had ever pointed it out, joking or not.

"Hardly your fault. You weren't wrong, about me or the song." He really didn't mean to sound so scathing, but over the past year his anger at life had been building, and Yenn was a part of that anger. "If that's all, though, I'll be going anywhere else."

"I'm sorry for taking him, too." His legs didn't seem to want to work at that. "He cares for you, too, and it has nothing to do with magic and wishes. And maybe it's not to the same extent as what you feel for him, or maybe it's more, but he does care." 

"It's not a matter of if he cares. What you and Geralt have, it's powerful. Fate, probably. You've got practically all of- of eternity, to keep up your little dance with him." _And I've got now, tomorrow, the next few years_ , he thought bitterly. Sometimes Jaskier wonders how long, really. How long he has to get over what may be the love of his life. Not nearly long enough. It felt so cruel.

"What if I said you had that, too?" Yenn sounded soft, almost gentle. Almost. Her words were laced with secrets, conniving.

"What are you talking about? You know damn well I'll probably not make it to see this destiny business out!" He felt something, then, like a touch at the base of his skull that spread through him and made him calm. His body felt very heavy, suddenly.

"I also wanted to apologize for that. It's not... it's not fair of me, to do this to you, but I care about Geralt and if he loses you I don't think he'll be himself ever again." Jaskier wanted to ask what she meant, what any of that meant, but his tongue felt very dry and numb. "When this is over, try to remember he cares about you. Needs you." 

"Ye- egh!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, if you've seen this episode then the setting is pretty much already there in your brain, but if not then I deeply apologize. I usually lean towards more imagery, but for this story i felt it didn't need it.

Jaskier kept rubbing at the back of his neck as they trekked up the mountain and Geralt had started to wonder if he'd been bit by something, hurt himself somehow. Yennefer was watching him as well, her eyes more following him as if waiting for something terrible or interesting to happen. Geralt briefly wondered if she'd decided to play a trick on him, but he could see the sliver of concern on her face, of pain.

That didn't stop him from worrying.

And worrying.

And worrying. 

Finally it became too much when Jaskier started stumbling around, seeming to not know where his own feet were. Pulling him close he walked nearer to Yennefer, intent on an explanation.

"What did you do to him?" She ignored him, watching Jaskier glance around, clearly hearing them but not listening. 

"He'll be fine. I just decided to ease some of his concerns." Geralt didn't like the sound of that, but he was sure it'd be impossible getting an answer from her.

It took a few hours for Jaskier to get his bearings, to stop falling over himself, but when he did he seemed fine and didn't even seem to realize anything had been wrong. Whatever was going on with him, it seemed to have passed. Which was good because the fucking path they were about to take looked dangerous enough for a stable man to walk.

Geralt found himself having to push back his questions for them both because he had to focus on the task at hand.

* * *

"Before I go, I should tell you that I did do something to your bard." Geralt was already pissed off, already feeling heartbroken and sore. This didn't help.

"What are you talking about?" Jaskier was fine. Nowhere to be seen at the moment, but fine. Wasn't he? Where the fuck was Jaskier, actually? "What did you do?"

"Back at the camp, after our talk, I went to have a talk with him and I cursed him." The witcher's body went rigid, eyes narrowing at the witch. 

"What the fuck did you do, Yennefer?" Cursed. Jaskier and curses had a knack for finding each other. Trouble had a knack for finding him as well. Geralt ignored the urge to run and find him, because at the moment he still felt like he could talk Yennefer into staying. Destiny be damned, there was something between them that he hadn't felt in a long time. Unless you count what he was still denying he felt for the bard.

"He's like us, now. You can tell him to stop worrying about getting those wrinkles, if you'd like." Geralt's heart nearly stopped. No. No, she wouldn't. 

"What," he growled, taking a step towards her. She didn't back away. "Yenn! Tell me you didn't."

"I meant what I said. He's better for you. And now, he's just a little less human so maybe you're better for him. Keep him out of trouble, if you can. Age may not do him in, but a sword certainly still can. Don't waste this gift, Geralt."

* * *

Jaskier didn't know. Geralt knew he didn't. Several times down the mountain he'd almost told him, but he was feeling a lot and he worried if he opened his mouth it would be to yell. He couldn't risk pushing him away, not when he had to find out everything Yennefer had done to him. Not after snapping at him once already. 

"Geralt? I'm sorry... About Yennefer." The witcher was silent. Usually that wouldn't have stopped the bard, but he was grateful that today it did. 

They were both silent, actually. Where Jaskier was usually loud and boisterous, he was now just careful, scratching at the back of his neck as he'd been doing before. Geralt wanted to look, to see what had him so itchy, but he had a feeling he knew what he'd find, so he didn't. Out of fear and some shred of hope that as long as he didn't look, it wasn't real. 

"We should probably give Roach a chance to rest soon." The suggestion was more of a question, but Geralt agreed. He hadn't ridden the horse down the mountain, it was too risky, but she was growing tired now. They all were.

"We'll stop here then, stay for the night." Here being in the middle of the woods, but Geralt wasn't worried. At least they were off the damn mountain. 

"Right. Should I... collect some sticks? For a fire?" The dry pine under them would be awful to sleep on, he thought. More for Jaskier than Geralt. He wondered if Jaskier was cold, out here. "Geralt?"

"Hmm." He wasn't really sure what Jaskier had asked, because he wasn't paying attention. When Jaskier started walking away from him and Roach he briefly panicked, worried he'd just said the wrong thing, but then Jaskier bent down and picked up a twig, and then another one, and he calmed. Tying Roach to a sturdy tree, he got down and started brushing the pointy needles out of his way. 

By the time Jaskier walked back, arms full of pitiful firewood, there was a decent enough space for the both of them to lay their bedrolls and rocks gathered to keep in the flames of a fire. The bard dumped the wood into the circle, sitting down and brushing his hands on his pants. When dirt actually rubbed off on them, he frowned and wrinkled his nose. Turning his face back to the witcher, he caught him staring.

They didn't say a word at first, just watched each other, waiting. Finally, Jaskier broke the silence, as he so often did. 

"I don't know what to say." Ger*alt snorted. "I mean it. I kind of expected her to keep stringing you along forever, or at least as long as I lived." 

"What happened between us wasn't real." Those words sounded wrong, despite him knowing they were right. 

"Tell that to all the mornings I had to put up with you after she left. Fake or not, you can't deny you love her." He could. He could deny it with a vengeance. "No more than I can deny how I feel for you, actually." 

"What?" Jaskier sat up, clasping his hands between his legs. A small shiver ghosted his skin, and Geralt could almost smell his fear. He didn't expect this. He didn't expect Jaskier to ever address what was between them. 

"Life's too short, remember. I think I ought to tell you and get it over with, when I'm still young enough for it not to sound stupid and pitiful." Except life wasn't short. Jaskier deserved to know that. Why couldn't Geralt bring himself to say so? Maybe because if Jaskier knew, he'd stop talking. He'd go back to thinking he could keep all this inside and never tell Geralt anything. "I guess it still is pitiful, isn't it? Yennefer said I wrote the song for her, and for you, but that's only half true. I love you. Quite a bit, actually."

"Jaskier-"

"It's awful, really! I mean, I've loved you from the start, from the moment you talked those elves into leaving and starting over!" Geralt walked, or lunged really, towards Jaskier and knocked him over. 

"You don't know what you're saying." Jaskier stared up at him, eyes wide and filling with tears he wouldn't let fall. 

"And you made it so easy, didn't you," he cried, ignoring Geralt's feral look. "Always saving me, saving others, of course I was going to love you! I would follow you for the rest of my life, if I could." Geralt kissed him. His hands flew up to catch Jaskier's, pinning them to the dirt next to his head. It was desperate, messy, and he wasn't talking about the kiss. Anything between them that started so soon after he lost Yennefer may just be his own heart seeking comfort, but Jaskier didn't seem to mind.

Breaking away, which was harder than it should ever be, left the bard panting beneath him. There was want in his eyes, and need. Desire was nothing new, not to Geralt, but suddenly it felt a lot stronger. Maybe it wasn't comfort he wanted. Maybe he just wanted Jaskier. How could he be sure, though? 

"I love you," Jaskier said again, and his watery eyes broke something loose in Geralt. " _I love you_. Geralt! I love you!" 

"I know." He kissed him, then, and in that one kiss he wanted to say so much, more than he knew to put in words. He wanted Jaskier to know that he was trying to fix it, to put it all together. Whether the bard understood he couldn't be sure, but he didn't stop him.

When morning comes, he'll have to tell him. Tell him that Yennefer has cursed him to a long and lonely life, and that drawn on the back of his neck is a wolf, tying them together for as long as each of them live. He;ll wake, relaxed, and see that Jaskier is still asleep, and he'll sort through a lot of feelings he has been pushing aside for too long. 

In the morning, though. Tonight, he'd settle for kissing Jaskier and slowly unlacing his trousers. Their kissed will turn hot, their breath coming faster. Geralt will realize what he feels, he'll untangle the mess of feelings in his chest. 


End file.
